


I'll dream of you until you come back to me

by thewolvescalledmehome



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon Era, F/M, Fluff, R plus L equals J, post 7x03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 12:17:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11691450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewolvescalledmehome/pseuds/thewolvescalledmehome
Summary: For the prompt: How about sansa telling jon he's "like a dream" when they reunite again? :) (requested by sputnikchanse on tumblr)(Post 7x03)





	I'll dream of you until you come back to me

As soon as Jon left, Sansa was anxious for his return. She had told the guards, the Maesters, anyone who’d known, that as soon as Jon was spotted she was to be summoned. No matter the time of day, what she was doing, she was to be immediately informed. She knew it wouldn’t be for a while—several months, most like—but every time a guard, a Maester, anyone approached her, she hoped it was news of Jon.

He’d been gone for only a month when she started having dreams about him coming back, coming home. She dreamed that she was in the Godswood and he emerged from the trees saying, _Sansa, I’m home._ She dreamed that she just happened to be on the battlements when the gates opened and he rode through. She dreamed that they received a raven saying he was near and riding out on the King’s Road to meet him.

For months, she dreamed of him coming home, of hugging him as he had hugged her when she arrived at Castle Black. She dreamed of him sharing his stories of the Dragon Queen and all that happened in the south. She dreamed of him coming home with no more scars than he left with, with no more brokenness than he left with. She dreamed of him returning—returning to her.

She dreamed of him nearly every night, and she missed him terribly. She wasn’t the only one though. Ghost spent his nights in Jon’s chambers, and the more Sansa missed Jon, the more she tried to get Ghost to join her in her own chamber. Every time Sansa tried to move him or lead a path of treats from Jon’s chambers to hers, he always stayed. She couldn’t get him to move.

“Ghost, I miss him too,” she’d whisper into his fur when she said goodnight to him every evening. He would nuzzle her and let her hold him until she was sleepy enough to return to her chambers and go to sleep. Sometimes she’d pretend Ghost would sleep in her bed with her. Sometimes she’d pretend Jon slept in her bed with her.

* * *

 

Jon had been gone for months and whenever anyone would see her they would greet her with: “I’m sorry, but there’s no word yet, my lady.” They knew what the first words out of her mouth would inquire about Jon. She always nodded, thanking them, masking her disappointment. She knew it was excessive: Sansa would ask more than Arya or Bran would. Bran insisted that Jon would return when he accomplished all he went south for, and Arya said Jon would come back because he was Jon. Sansa wasn’t as confident as her siblings. It wasn’t that she lacked faith in her siblings’ belief, or even lacked faith in Jon, it was that she didn’t believe something so good as Jon coming home to her whole was something that could happen to her. It was too good of a thing for her life.

“Jon will come home, Sansa. He will,” Arya would reassure her every time Sansa voiced her concerns. She would smile and _I know, of course, I’m just being stupid_ , but she would still worry.

Every other Stark who went south never came back, except her and Arya. She couldn’t help but think of her grandfather, her uncle, her mother, her brother, her aunt, her father, who looked so similar to Jon. Her grandfather had been burned alive, her uncle strangled trying to save him, her mother and brother betrayed at a wedding, her aunt in a bed of blood, and her father beheaded. Something happening to Jon would just follow the pattern.

Jon returning to her, whole and untouched, was nothing but a stupid little girl’s dream.

* * *

 

Sansa was saying goodnight to Ghost in Jon’s chambers, already dressed in a nightgown and dressing robe. She sat in one of Jon’s chairs, brushing his fur, the way she used to brush Lady’s what felt like hundreds of years ago. Ghost didn’t make the same noises Lady had, but he still sat patiently and let her brush it every night.

That night was different though. Once she finished, setting the brush on the table, Ghost got up, moving to the door. Sansa thought he needed to go out one last time, but when she made to open the door, Ghost sat down in front of it.

“Ghost, please move. I have to go to my chambers.” Ghost shifted, setting his paws on top of each other, looking very statuesque. She thought briefly that he looked like the direwolves that guarded the crypts. “Ghost.” She tried to use the commanding tone she’d heard Jon use with him, thinking that might be more effective, but he didn’t move. “Seven hells, you’re as stubborn as Jon,” she muttered. Sansa sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck, tying to tug him away from the door. “Ghost!” she snapped, exasperated. The damned wolf didn’t move. “Fine,” she huffed, returning to the chair, deciding to wait him out.

Hours later, Ghost still hadn’t moved and Sansa was nodding off in the chair. Once she realized she really needed to get to her own chambers, she tried again to get Ghost to move, again to no avail. She turned to go back to the chair, thinking maybe she’d nap and Ghost would move, then she could sneak out. Before she sat down though, something nudged the back of her knees. Ghost had moved, and he was prodding her away from the chair.

“Ghost, what are you doing?” He pushed her back until she fell into the bed. “Ghost! I can’t sleep here!” She got up to dart around him to the door, but Ghost beat her, lying back down and blocking her path. His red eyes watched her, and when she sat back down on the bed, he lowered his head, as if he was pleased. “All right. Fine.” She laid down, pulling Jon’s furs over her. She fell asleep almost immediately.

* * *

 

“Sansa?” She opened her eyes slowly, pushing herself up on her elbows. Jon stood in front of her, illuminated only by the dying fire in the grate. _It’s just another dream_ , a disappointed voice in her head reminded.

“Jon?” she asked anyway. He looked as though he had just returned, cloak flung over the chair, boots by the door. This hadn’t been any of the dreams she’d had before, but this one was far more detailed, so she wasn’t going to complain. “You’re home,” she laughed, throwing off the furs and leaping at him, arms going tight around his shoulders. _Oh, he feels so real_ , she thought. His arms were tight around her as well, one around her waist and the other across her shoulders.

“I’ve missed you,” he murmured, gripping her tighter.

“Oh, I’ve missed you too.” One of her hands reached up, burying in the curls on the back of his neck. “Oh, you feel real,” she whispered out loud. Jon’s arms dropped from around her then, and he backed away. As soon as he was gone, she missed his warmth.

“Sansa,” he began slowly, “I _am_ real. It’s me. I’m back. I’m home.” He held out his arms as though to prove it. She stepped forward slowly, one hand going up to cup his face.

“You’re like a dream,” she whispered. “I dreamed of you, almost every night, of you coming home.” Jon’s face turned pink, a surprised smile curving his lips.

“You dreamed of me?”

“Every night,” she breathed. She crashed back into him, holding him tightly.

“Wait, but, wait. Why are you in my chambers?” he asked once they’d broken apart again.

“Oh, erm. I came in to say goodnight to Ghost but he wouldn’t let me leave. He must’ve known you were coming home tonight.” Jon turned to look at his wolf, who was curled by the fire, watching them.

“He must’ve known how must I missed you,” he offered quietly, eyes slowly moving back from his wolf to her.

“I think he knew how much we missed each other,” she connected, just as quietly. Jon yawned then and she realized he must’ve been riding for quite some time to get back at this time of night. “Oh, I’ll let you get to bed. You need your rest.” As soon as she moved towards the door, Ghost leapt in front of it. “Oh, you damn wolf!”

“I think he wants you to stay here,” came softly behind her. She turned slowly.

“Do you want me to stay here, Jon?”

“Sansa, I don’t ever want to be apart from you again, even for just a night.” For the third time that night, Sansa was caught up in his arms. She hoped he never let go.


End file.
